The Bluebelle of Dublin Town
by PrincessDaydream77
Summary: Sybil and Branson are settled in Ireland, but their world is about to crash and burn when the Crawley family comes to visit. When the lads go out on the town and bring a fight home with them, Sybil is knocked down the stairs. Will she and the baby survive?
1. Harbinger of Doom

The Bluebelle of Dublin Town

Summary : Sybil and Branson are settled in Ireland, but their world is about to crash and burn when the Crawley family comes to visit. When the lads go out on the town and bring a fight home with them, Sybil is knocked down the stairs. Will she and the baby survive?

Disclaimer : All characters belong to ITV and Julian Fellowes. All plot-lines belong to me (except that Sybil is pregnant and married to Tom and Mary married to Matthew).

Chapter One

Things were finally perfect. It had taken six years and several burnt and rebuilt bridges, but Sybil Penelope Crawley finally had a wedding ring on her right hand. She and Tom were happy living in Dublin. He had got his job at _the DublinTimes_, no less, and was earning more than enough to keep them living comfortably. They were living almost in luxury, by Dublin standards, in a four-up, three-down townhouse on the edge of the city centre, where Tom could reach his office with ease and Sybil's nursing job at Dublin Infirmary was only a ten minute stroll away. They couldn't be happier, especially as they were expecting their first-born child the following September. It was now mid-July and the warm weather was really beginning to kick in, to the point where Tom had actually gone out shirtless to fetch his morning paper, leading a number of sarcastic wolf whistles from the young boys across the street, riding out on their bicycles every morning, laughing at people and throwing stones at the other young boys from a neighbouring street. Every morning, one of the rough young lads would soften up and pick a bunch of pansies, which they would hand to Sybil herself. She had had many conversations with the lads, all consisting of the same things, mainly telling them fiestily to back off and leave her husband alone, while they laughed goodnaturedly and backed off, cycling down to harass someone else.

One hot summer's day, Sybil arrived home from her nursing job at Dublin Infirmary to find an elegantly scripted letter on her doormat. Instantly recognising her mother's writing, Sybil picked it up, ran to an armchair in the sitting room and opened the letter. She relaxed back into the soft cushions and began to read;

_My dearest Sybil,_

_I so hope you are well, as we all are here. Mary and Matthew are extremely happy and Edith has bought Haxby Park from Sir Richard and is settling down with Sir Anthony. Papa and I are constantly worried about you, in case Tom is away at work and you have no one to help you when you go into labour. It happened to me and I would not wish it on you. Of course, the baby was fine, as she was you._

_I hope you will forgive Tom for mentioning this to me before you, but we both agreed that it was for the best. We want you home, darling, so this situation could not occur. You will be boarding the ferry on the third of August and you will stay with us until the baby is born. Tom will come down as soon as is possible for him to do so as well._

_I hope to see you soon, my darling,_

_All my love,_

_Mama._

'The third of August?' thought Sybil. 'That's only four days from now!'

She kept anxiously rereading the line about Tom until the man himself turned the key in the lock and popped his face round the living room door.

"Hello love. How was your day?"

"I got a letter from my mother, telling me that I am going to be going up to Downton to have my child, were you going to mention this?"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, you know."

"Good. I have spent the best part of six years trying to escape my family and I am not going back now. They will just try to seperate us again. I am not going. If they want to come here, that is perfectly fine."

"I was hoping you'd say that. I'll relay the reply, shall I?"

"If you could, that would be wonderful, thank you, darling."

She reached up to give him a peck on the cheek, while he turned his face so that his lips met hers and pulled away with a mischeivious grin on his face.

Half an hour later, Tom returned from the telephone to impart his news to Sybil.

"Mary and Matthew are coming down."

"Oh, God(!)"

A/N: Please review so I know how I'm doing!


	2. Crawley Cousins

Chapter Two

A/N: Big thank you to my only reviewer, BelleLitteraire, for making me happy. Guys, I've had 311 views on this story and only 1 review. Please take 30 seconds to review and make me even more happy.

It was now only three hours before Mary and Matthew were due to arrive and Sybil had never felt more stressed. She had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was desperately trying to ignore, the feeling that she had to prove herself to her sister and new brother-in-law/distant cousin. 'Of course I don't!' thought Sybil sternly. 'They aren't my parents. I don't need to prove myself to them.'

It was only when the key turned in the lock that the nerves really set in.

"Sybil? Can you come down to the dining room please? I've got a couple of surprises for you."

"Coming darling." she called from the top of the house, before taking a deep breath and walking downstairs to the dining room.

She paused again outside the dining room door, then scolded herself for being so silly and pushed open the light wood and glass to reveal a small part of her old family conversing with her new.

"Sybil!" exclaimed Mary, rushing over and embracing her youngest sister tightly. "I've missed you so much, darling!"

"I've missed you too, Mary." cried Sybil, her initial worries forgotten and drowning in the tears of joy streaming down her face.

"Oh, how are you, darling? Have you been alright, what with the baby and your work and everything?"

"I'm fine, Mary. I finish work in a few days, then I'll be staying at home, probably reading and sewing."

"Well, I'll be here to keep you company now, won't I?"

"Yes, if you can cope with me."

"Of course I can! I will not leave you for one minute."

"Thank you, Mary."

"Well," chipped in Matthew. "I think that this calls for a bit of a celebration. Why don't we all go for a drink?"

"I think that's a brilliant idea, Matthew. We can all go down to the Dublin Arms this evening for a knees-up. What d'you think, ladies?"

"Alright, but no darts. I'm tired of you constantly complaining that it's been rigged just because you only managed two eights and a twenty-one(!)"

"Yes, dear." he replied, grabbing his wife by the arm and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

"Right, I best get our coats then, shouldn't I?" smirked Sybil, pulling down the four coats from the coat rack, giving them to their respective owners and turning the key in the lock once more. Propriety be damned, tonight they were there to have a good time!

A/N: I'd just like to announce at this point that I have extreme writer's block on the next chapter. I have started it, but it'll probably be quite short and will take me about a week.


	3. This Is Dublin

Chapter Three

A/N: Thank you to gothamgirl128, OMGRedVines, BelleLiteraire, seapatrol12, MissSarahG1, Tratieluver14 and VickyP for being stars and reviewing. Also, I changed the name of the pub to make it easier to distinguish between the pub and the city.

The Romilly Arms was alive with noise that evening. They seemed absolutely unaware that they were entertaining two ladies and the heir to an English earldom, but Branson doubted from experience that they would have been hospitable if they were. The landlord of the Romilly Arms had once received news that he was entertaining a Chester Duke and he had hit the man with such force that he had toppled through the doors and onto the tiles of the street below. Sybil had become used to the rough ideals of Dublin life well before she set foot in Tom's pub, and Matthew had lived in a middle class life for many a year, but it was Mary that he was worried about. She had barely ever stepped foot over the borderline of Ripon, bar the annual trip to London, and absolutely _never_ in lower than upper class accommodation and facilities.

Tom walked back to the booth that his wife and in-laws were sitting in, calling a few greetings to his friends as he went, and set down the tray of drinks on the table, a pint of bitter each for him and Matthew, a dry white wine for Mary and an orange juice for Sybil. He sat down beside Sybil, wrapping one arm around her shoulder, while Mary looked quite uncomfortable, shifting a little in her seat. They all sat in relative silence until a ruckus came from the door.

"Tom!" exclaimed a female voice from the doorway.

"Kathleen!" he cried, standing to embrace the woman.

"Sybil!" she cried.

"Kathleen, how are you?" smiled Sybil, embracing the woman in turn. The two Bransons and the woman named Kathleen then turned to Mary and Matthew, who looked a little dazed and confused at the situation.

"Mary, Matthew, this is Tom's elder sister, Kathleen. Kathleen, this is my sister, Mary and my brother-in-law, Matthew."

"Hello, how are you?" Kathleen asked the Crawley pair, who smiled and responded for a while, bringing the tone of their evening much higher.

Suddenly, the door to the Arms burst open, revealing a large group of thug-like men, each brandishing a rifle. A collective gasp echoed through the pub, penetrated by several cries from the women. Mary moved sideways slightly, shuffling a little closer to Matthew, while Sybil stood her ground beside her husband and sister-in-law, though admittedly a little further behind at Tom's bequest.

"Hands in the air and don't move!" came a yell from one of the men, directing his rifle from one stall to another, so as to reinforce his threat. Mary, Matthew and the Bransons all obeyed quickly, though Tom a little more hesitantly than the others, evidently not liking being pushed around.

"Tom, what is going on?" asked Mary, her brow furrowed a little at the actions of the thugs in the doorway.

"It's a raid. They do it every so often, just to prove their power in the city, and no one's ever tried to stop them. They'll empty the till, throw their weight around a bit, but nobody ever really gets hurt. Not if they stay well out of the way." Tom explained quietly, trying not to laugh at the look of indignant horror on the face of his sister-in-law, knowing that now would not be the greatest time to bring it up.

"But this is armed robbery!" Mary exclaimed in an equally low tone, though the venom at the injustice was not lost in her voice. "This is barbaric!"

"This is illegal." chipped in Matthew.

"This is Dublin." Sybil summarised with a sigh. She, Tom and Kathleen were now used to these types of things, the latter two especially, having lived around them for quite a long time, but Sybil had always really thought that her elder sister was rather over reactive, even in situations as severe as these.

The men themselves were doing exactly as Tom had said they would, emptying the till, throwing their weight around and scaring the living daylights out of the people in the bar, including Mary, though she'd rather give her inheritance to Edith than admit it.

"See, they think they're tough, but they aren't. They're just bullies." Tom laughed quietly. Unfortunately for the group, not quite quietly enough.

"What was that, sunshine?" asked the tallest of the gang, evidently the leader due to the better quality of his rifle, a rather daunting sight to behold when it was pointing rather closely at their faces. Tom, however, was not fazed, instead stepping further forward, barely flinching when the thugs turned their rifles only to him.

"I said that you're bullies." he responded fearless, sauntering up to the leader, pulling his head back and spitting right into his eye.

Chaos ensued. The leader had immediately retaliated by punching the man right on the nose, knocking him flying into the bar. Screams echoed in the air as the other drinkers bolted for the door. The only ones remaining were the Crawleys and the Bransons, quaking in their stall, as they watched Tom being beaten black and blue, unable to do anything for the guns pointed in their face.

At Tom's shouted instruction, Matthew took hold of Sybil's arm and began to pull her in the direction of the door.

"No!" the younger Crawley cried, hitting out at Matthew while he lifted her from the ground. "No! Tom, no!"

Suddenly, the ruckus from within the bar ceased, leaving only silence. A silence that was unnervingly loud to Sybil.

Immediately, she began to make her way towards the door, desperate to get to her husband, but Matthew held her fast. She began to whimper in his arms as the gang left the room, as she had noted the scarlet covering their knuckles.

Once they were well out of the way, Matthew released his grip and Sybil went sprinting through the door, Mary, Matthew and Kathleen trailing behind her, collapsing on the floor of the pub beside her battered and bloody husband.

"Don't worry, Tom. It's all over." Sybil soothed, stroking his damp brown hair.

"No, it isn't." Tom sighed, wincing in the pain caused by his swollen mouth. "It's just begun."

A/N: Please review for me. Please!


	4. Fear in Finding

Chapter Four

A/N: Thanks to BobbietheBobble and Margaret Taylor (thanks for the advice) for reviewing.

It was very early the next morning, a good ten hours after the fight, when Sybil finally allowed her eyelids to begin to droop. She had sat in a loving vigil over Tom all night without sleep, and she was unbelievably tired.

Tom's pain induced fever had calmed dramatically now, as opposed to the spikes of hot and cold that had occurred during the night, and he was stable now, enough so that she felt safe enough to go to sleep at last.

She was awoken several dozen minutes later, by a gentle pressure against her face. Opening her eyes slowly, a little alarmed, Sybil was delighted to see that it was Tom's hand that had caused the warm presence.

"Hello, beautiful." the man greeted his wife, a slight slur in his voice, though whether it was caused by his slight concussion or the amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night, Sybil still did not know. Still, as long as he was alive and well, she found that she really didn't care, although, something within her still couldn't resist having a little jibe at him.

"You're drunk." Sybil commented, her eyebrows slightly raised. Her response was a laugh from Tom, slightly permeated by a hacking cough that shook his body.

"Maybe I am a little. But no matter if I drank a glass of wine or a gallon, you would still be the most beautiful woman in the world." he told her, his Irish brogue a little less slurred as he spoke the words that he believed in his heart to be the truest that had even been spoken. Sybil herself, however, did not give in to the flattery so easily.

"Alright, what do you want, Mr Branson?" the brunette asked, in a cheekily questioning voice.

"Just the pleasure of my wife's company. Is that too much to ask?" he replied, with an equal amount of cheek.

"Perhaps it is. It depends on whether you intend on bringing any more gangs home to knock the seven bells out of you." Sybil questioned him, her voice clearly having a playful edge to it, though Tom did not see that side of it, the smile on his face dropping immediately. The woman noticed this just as quickly, reaching over to take his hand in hers by way of an apology. "I'm sorry, that was a low blow."

"No, you're right." the Irishman told his wife, gently tracing the patterns on the surface of her palm. "I was so foolish, and I am so sorry for that. I endangered you, and our baby, and I shouldn't have done it. I should have just left it as it was. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You just did what you thought was right, just like I did when I left home. Sometimes, you will make a mistake, and sometimes you'll get it right. I know that I definately did." she admitted.

"Did you? Are you sure you did?" Tom questioned her immediately, a real look of desperation in his eyes, one that Sybil recognised him of having before.

"Tom, I have never been surer of anything in my life." the woman told him honestly, smiling a little more with each word she spoke.

"Good. Because I feel the same, and it would kill me if you didn't." His wife smiled at this. The honesty in their relationship was one thing she cherished, though it had always been rather difficult for Tom to reveal his true feelings, as it was not something commonly done in the jungle of Dublin. Still, he did so, if only for Sybil's sake.

"Well, then you have nothing to worry about, because I do." she responded, leaning down to peck her husband lightly on the cheek, and then collapsing beside him in a fit of laughter when he turned his head to pull her down into a full on kiss. Their laughter was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

"Oh my goodness. Would you two at least go somewhere more private if you are going to do that?" The two of them broke apart, turning in unison to look at the woman in the doorway.

"You know, Mary, you are married as well. You must at least give Matthew a quick kiss in public once in a while." Sybil reasoned, her head tipping slightly to the side as her sister moved a little further into the room.

"Yes, but there is a difference between a quick peck on the cheek and what you were just doing." Mary countered, gesturing towards the couple, who were slowly reddening in their cheeks.

"Well-" Tom began, but was cut off by the huge sound of rapping on the front door. It was almost like the sound of metal on wood. The man suddenly looked terrified, almost dementedly so in Mary's eyes.

"Tom?" Sybil questioned gently, laying a hand on the man's upper arm, but it had little effect, as he jumped to his feet, wincing slightly as he did so, due to his injuries.

"Get upstairs. Now, both of you. Go!" he exclaimed, pointing towards the staircase for good measure. Though she looked reluctant to do so, the younger Crawley sister allowed herself to be dragged up to the landing by the elder, sighing in relief as Tom followed her up, wrapping two arms around her waist.

"To the attic!" Sybil exclaimed, as she heard something, most likely glass, shatter near the front door. Or indeed on it, as the case may have been. So, the two Bransons, Mary and Matthew, who had come to find them when he heard the ruckus on the landing, ascended the staircase into the dusty, overfilled attic.

By this point, all of them were near to shedding tears of fear and frustration, though not one would ever think of showing it. Unfortunately, they each became far closer to doing so as a terrifyingly familiar voice was hollered up towards the space they were hidden in.

"You'd better come down, or you'll all get it."

A/N: Please review, to find out what happens next.


	5. Disobey for Loyalty

Chapter Five

A/N: Thank you to Duchess for being a fantastic reviewer.

The quartet was utterly frozen in fear, silent and still in utter terror. They could hear the pounding footsteps of the men, the metal of their guns as they collided with various objects in the house, their shouts as they tried to draw out the man that they hunted.

The man himself was possibly the most fearful of them, not for himself, but for his wife and child, both of whom had been dragged into the situation against their will, and may even be shot because of it, killing all Tom's dreams in a single bullet. '_No!'_ he thought, gritting his teeth. '_I won't let that happen. Not to them.'_

That was why the man stepped out from his hiding place, blowing a kiss to his wife as he descended the attic steps, going to confront his fate.

As she saw the man begin to do so, Sybil opened her mouth to cry out, but Mary's fingers closed over her lips before she could attempt to do so.

"Be quiet, Sybil! Do you want to get us all killed?" the woman asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

"No, I don't, but I don't want my husband dead on my landing floor, either!" the younger sister exclaimed, her voice a touch louder than the elder's, in an attempt to win over the woman by the use of sheer force of persuasion. Mary was not at all fazed, unfortunately, and did not relinquish her hold.

"Well, I hate to break this to you, Sybil, darling, but that may happen either way. The thing Branson would want for you to do would be to endanger yourself, or the baby, for that matter. Don't do this to him, darling. He wouldn't want you to." As much to her own surprise as to her sister's, Sybil gave nothing in the way of a response, merely sat in silence, leaning her head down onto Mary's arm, as if she were afraid to hold up her own head anymore.

Below them, the sound of voices drifting through the ceiling and through the floorboards of the attic, growing increasingly louder, the threatening tone of one of the gang members melding together with the pleading note in Tom's Irish lilt, one that Sybil could not help but wince to hear. Still, as Mary had instructed her, the young woman remained utterly silent, listening in anguish to the heated argument right below where she sat.

"You just don't think about what you're doing, do you, Branson?" asked the gang leader, hitting the baton in his right hand against the palm of his left repeatedly, an intimidating action if ever Tom had seen one.

"No, he never does. He thinks he can try and rebel against the monarchy and then just get away with it. Bloody fool!" exclaimed another, running his hand along the barrel of his gun, as if comforting the artillery, or encouraging the thing to have patience. Neither thought was particularly encouraging to the man.

"And you say your wife isn't home for the occasion, Tommy boy?" the first man asked, striking fear right to Tom's very bones.

"No, she isn't." he answered, responding to the man's question extremely quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, as the gang member almost immediately noticed his change to become apprehensive. This brought an amused smile to the man's face, as if he were the cat who got the cream.

"A little quick to answer that, weren't you, Tommy?" the third man questioned, ascending the staircase from where he had stood at the foot of it. He also wore a smirk on his face. "What are you hiding from us?"

"I'm not hiding anything." Tom told them, the rate of his breathing increasing tenfold. He was starting to panic, as all men would do eventually when under such pressure as this. The lives of his wife and unborn child balanced precariously on his fingertips, and should he fail to protect them, their blood would cover his hands for eternity.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Tom advanced on the men, stepping forward so quickly that two of the men, when they too took a large step away from him, went toppling halfway down the staircase. Unfortunately, the leader, rifle in hand, had not been fearful enough to step away, and had only been roiled by the occurrence.

"I think you'll find that that was a mistake, Branson." the ringleader told him, the threat in his voice evident even for one who would not have brandished a rifle, one of which he was now aiming at the man's chest. "And you're going to pay for it."

Now fully restored to a conscious state, the two men who had taken their tumble ascended the staircase once more, coming to flank the man, one on each side, and each drawing a pistol from his belt. For the first time, Tom let out a noise, something between a gasp and a yelp, finally admitting defeat, in the eyes of the men, at least.

All of a sudden, the trapdoor of the attic swung open, and through it, onto the ground, Sybil herself slipped down the steps to stand before the men, directly behind her husband, who immediately clasped his wife's hand in his.

"So, it was all a lie after all, Tommy boy. You and your wife are both here, and your little baby too. A family, all standing together." Sybil could hear the tone of the man's voice, and the anticipation within it. Anticipation to inflict pain on all three of them, and on Mary and Matthew, should they find them. '_ I won't let them find them.'_ The young woman promised herself, as she stepped forward in front of the men, walking around them so that they were facing her and no other members of her family.

"I won't let you hurt them." Sybil told the man, her voice low and dangerous.

Tom watched the group in horror, terrified as to what their reaction would be. He could not even move as the ringleader stepped forward, reaching out his arms and shoving Sybil harshly in the chest, but let out an anguished a moment later.

As Sybil went tumbling down the staircase.

A/N: Uh oh! Please review!


	6. The Pain of Loss

Chapter Six

A/N: Thank you to my great reviewer, Duchess.

As cliché as the phrase may sound, time seemed to have stopped for Tom, as he watched his wife land in a crumpled heap at the foot of their staircase.

As the woman ceased to move at all, the trio of gang members laughed, the joy in their laughter tinted by their terrifying strident tones, chilling Tom to the core. However, he was not fearful for himself, but for his darling Sybil, and for their unborn child. Could either of them survive through this? He truly did not know if it was possible, even with the willpower his wife had always had.

"Sorry for your loss, Tommy boy, but it had to be done." the ringleader told him, not sounding regretful in the least, only gleeful, something that made Branson sick to his very core. Finally having some mercy after this statement, the group left the house, taking their guns and arms back with them, leaving only Tom and Sybil on the staircase. However, a loud gasp from behind him told the Irish man that this was no longer true.

"Sybil!" came an exclamation, one that Tom could tell came from the same person as the gasp did, as Mary went flying down the steps to see her sister laying there unmoving. "Oh, my poor darling. What happened to you?"

Though he sensed that the question was rhetorical, the woman's brother in law saw fit to explain. "It was the gang. They wanted to teach me a lesson, apparently, and when she tried to protect me, they took it out on her."

The moment he had ceased his explanation, Tom began to wish that he had not begun it at all. The look of horror on Mary's face was harsh enough. To know that it was his Sybil who was the cause of this emotional response was like a bullet through his heart.

"She was hurt by them because you wouldn't do as you were told!" the woman exclaimed, the harshness in her voice evident as the expression on her face which conveyed the same emotion. "She was injured by these thugs because she was caught in the crossfire of your foolish arguments!"

The Irish man did not give any response to this accusation, as he did not see any that he could give. Mary spoke the truth, in every word, as he had expected her to do, so he felt no need to argue. He was in the wrong after all, and had no right to stand his ground when he did not deserve to do so.

"I know." he sighed, eventually plucking up the courage to admit how terrible he felt. "This is all my fault, and I know it. If anything worse happens to Sybil now, I will have it on my hands for the rest of my life. Do you not think that I've been punished enough?"

For a rare minute, Mary remained silence, hardly able to comprehend what her brother had said to her, as it was in stark contrast to what she had expected him to say, or rather what she had wished him to say, so that she could say he was rejecting his guilt. But he had said nothing of the sort, so she could not.

"Yes." she answered, breaking the silence that had awkwardly filled the room. "Of course you've suffered enough, but that doesn't change what has happened. Nor does it change the fact that my youngest sister is lying unconscious in the middle of her own staircase because she was set upon by a gang of thugs who were in fact looking for you."

As if her words had awoken a protective instinct in all three members of the family, the trio glanced down the staircase to where Sybil lay, silent and unmoving, sprawled across the steps. She had lain in the very same position when she had fallen, and she had not moved at all since. This was worrying for all of them.

At precisely the same moment, both Tom and Mary bolted for the steps where the brunette lay, frantically attempting to wake her, though the eldest Crawley sister doing so a little more calmly than her brother in law.

"Sybil! Sybil, please wake up! Come on, darling, please. If you can hear me, please wake up!" Tom was panicking already, a feeling that both Mary and Matthew were attempting to suppress, in an effort to maintain some sense and reason within the group of them. Seeing her baby sister in such a state was making it increasingly difficult for Mary to maintain this calmness, but she was still attempting to do so. After all, it would not help Sybil at all if the entire trio flustered and panicked, with no one left to speak with the voice of reason.

"Sybil…" Mary whispered, gently shaking her sister's shoulder. Though she was determined to remain calm, the woman still wanted to see the younger awake, so that she could know that she was alright. Her attempts were unsuccessful, as still Sybil remained unmoving.

Not anywhere near to giving up on this case, Mary moved closer still to her sister, but paused when she felt a sudden dampness seep through her skirt, soaking it through within a couple of moments. Immediately, the eldest Crawley daughter looked down, to try and discover what it was that had caused this, but could not stop herself from crying out when she saw the answer to her unvoiced question.

"Oh, no." she cried out, her hand rising to her mouth. "Please, no."

Blood. Her skirt, which had been sapphire blue in colour, was now a deep shade of indigo, so badly stained by the crimson liquid that its true colour could hardly be seen at all. But Mary's cries were not for a piece of ruined fabric. The situation was far graver than that.

The blood had also soaked through the skirt of Sybil' dress, staining it far worse than her sister's had been, due to the place that the blood had come from. The flow of the thick crimson liquid had come from between the young woman's legs, which could mean only one thing.

"The baby."

A/N: As if you weren't sad enough, next chapter will be the last for this story. However, I'll be doing a new story about Sybil and Tom returning to Downton with their children after fifteen years. Please tell me if you think this is a good idea, and review!


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